General Observations

I have a small plastic bag of collected items that I thought I would go nicely in your baby album.
1) your umbilical cord stump (or what I could find of it)
2) your little homemade birth announcement from the Birth Center with your name spelled wrong
3) weight/height for the first few weeks and months

To date, there is no baby album. I've made only one trip to the bookstore to peruse the selection and walked away completely dissatisfied by the choices. Also, I can't figure out how a baby album fits into our buy-nothing-new year. It's not exactly the kind of thing that one buys used. I guess someday I'll hand you a ziplock back with the little tokens of your infancy and tell you to read the blog for more info.

Without the direction of a baby book and the fill-in-the-blank pages I'm afraid I've failed to record the "developmental milestones" that one usually preserves therein. I'm not exactly sure when you sat up by yourself for the first time, although I know that by 5 months I felt confident that you could sit for your fancy photo shoot (you did tumble once, and if you look closely you can see a little red mark on your forehead in some of the photos). You were rolling over from front to back by the end of three months but then completely went off it--been there, done that. Now you refuse to roll and just scream until someone picks you up. Yesterday, we worked on rolling from back to front and once the novelty wore off, after precisely two rolls, you resorted to the tried and true method of yelling. You can generally find something to occupy your mind and hands no matter where you find yourself so moving doesn't seem to be high on your list of priorities. I think fat babies fight an uphill battle to mobility, there's just so much more to lug around, who wants to bother?

I love that you can find things of interest wherever you land. For instance, I started writing this blog while you were taking your Fred Nap. You woke up before the page loaded but you've been lying beside me, investigating your hands and fingers and blabbing on about the artwork on the walls, Peanut's breath and wondering about that white stuff on the ground. I understand you perfectly well. Even with a stuffy nose (again) you're a perfectly pleasant person.

See, I've done it again. I haven't filled-in-the-blanks. We'll never be able to remember your favorite toy or what you thought of your first snowfall (it was yesterday and it was captivating for about 2 minutes). But right now you're just making the cutest noises and I want to stop and listen.

The picture above is posted as proof that every once in a while I go wild and dress you like a girl.

Please Sir, May I Have Some MORE!

We haven't found a found a food you won't consume with considerable enthusiasm but avocado is currently the favorite. I was only a little jealous as you spooned mouth after mouth of that green goodness down the hatch. We've been working on sign language for "more" and it may very well be your first word. Perhaps we should work on "share."

Be Not Afraid

For the past few days I have been meditating (perhaps too sedate a word) on the subject of fear. On January 1st a 24 year-old hiker, Meredith Emerson, went missing on the very mountain we hiked two months ago in North Georgia. Within days her case was in the news across the country with up-to-the-minute updates on CNN, headlines at the top of our paper every morning and live broadcasts from multiple search parties in the mountains. The news gets more disturbing daily; although her body was found on Sunday night the papers reported this morning that she may have been held three days before she was killed.

For the past few nights I have crawled alongside you in bed, held your tiny hand in mine and let the tears roll down my cheeks. The story has hit close to home for reasons I can only partially describe. Two months ago when we hiked Blood Mountain (I've noticed that reporters have not chosen not to use the name in their reports) we carried Poppa Joe's ashes with us and sprinkled them from one of the most beautiful overlooks in the North Georgia mountains. Blood Mountain is sacred space and knowing that something so horrible and terrifying happened will now always be sewn into my memory of the mountain.

More gripping, however, has been the realization that one act of violence can cause such an avalanche of fear. I see in Meredith Emerson a woman who on the first day of a new year took her beloved dog out for a walk in one of the most beautiful places on earth. It sounds like a perfect way to kick off a new year, an idea that certainly would have appealed to me. The joy of walking with your dog in the woods is spiritual, meditative and pure. I'd like to think that one day you might head off for a walk in the woods with your dog. I'd like to believe that that idea didn't scare me.

One night recently I stretched out beside you while your nursed yourself to sleep and whispered admonitions into your ear: "Don't ever hike alone" and "Don't you ever talk to crazy old men" and simply "don't trust everyone you meet." I gathered your body close to mine and felt the fear move inside me as my imagination took leaps from one horrifying scenario to the next. And then, as you often do as you are drifting off to sleep, you stuck one little hand up in the air with your palm out and your little fingers slightly curved in an arc.

Fear Not.

The hand gesture, or mudra, is a familiar one. When I went to Thailand in 1999 I brought back several small metal statues of the Buddha bought from a street vendor for less than ten cents each. My favorite has always been the Buddha with his hand in the Abhaya Mudra, the sign of fearlessness In doing a little research on the mudra I found this link on Wikipedia: "The mudrā was probably used before the onset of Buddhism as a symbol of good intentions proposing friendship when approaching strangers."

We find ourselves living in a world where not every stranger who crosses your path has good intentions. So how does a girl with a sense of adventure, an inborn desire to be friendly and compassionate coexist with people who aren't? The answer is unclear but I will resist all temptation to scare you into staying home instead of hiking and averting your eyes whenever a stranger crosses your path. Afterall, you are far more likely to find joy in those encounters than sorrow. The world is more good than bad, people are more deserving of trust than not and while fear certainly has it's place (always, always trust your gut when you feel uncertain about a situation) it should never be a guiding ethic.

Thanks for reminding me.

2008 in Review

You woke up at 11:40 on the last day of 2007 and resisted all attempts to be lulled back to sleep. Perhaps it was the firecrackers the kids down the street were setting off or just the electric vibe in the air but the first minute of 2008 was something you wanted to witness. We joined Mama Gerri downstairs, called up to your dad that he had 20 seconds to get downstairs in time to see the ball drop and waited to ring in the new year. You watched Dick Clark (who must be taking the best vitamins ever made) and millions in Time Square dance around and celebrate. You did seem captivated.

So in review--2008 has been pretty great. You slept well, although since you've been eating some solids it seems you're even hungrier at night. 2008 seems to be a good year to sleep in as you didn't wake us up with your usual nose grabbing and cooing until 9:45. In 2008 you have not had any table food breakfast, as the pediatrician informed us that bananas can be constipating and so far you have not moved your bowels in 2008 (or for a good chunk of the last week of 2007).

You've watched the wind blow the trees out the window (2008 has been very breezy) and laughed at Peanut playing tug-of-war with her new toy. You've danced to a great bluesy version of Old McDonald had a Farm and seemed to think Mama Gerri flapping her arms like a duck was hilarious. You kept the beat on your new drum set. You chewed on Eeyore and a wooden spoon. Now you're taking your "Fred nap" (named after my great uncle Fred who always took a good nap after breakfast). In review, 2008 has been peaceful, fun and entertaining. Only 364 more days to go.

P.S. On the last day of 2007 we went in for your 6 month check-up and can report a weight of 20.2 pounds and 28 inches in length. You're still my A+ baby!

P.P.S. Until further notice, all photo credits go to your aunt Christa who is your personal photo chronicler.